


Together

by Ramoth666



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort, Dorks in Love, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Natasha Romanov Has Trouble Opening Up, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Protective Natasha Romanov, Wanda Maximoff Needs Many Hugs, Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-24 03:43:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18563233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ramoth666/pseuds/Ramoth666
Summary: Wanda's never let anyone in, but when a particular woman made to be silent slips into her room at the wrong time on a thundery night, hearts are soothed and confessions are made. But not out loud.





	Together

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone, I've recently become obsessed with this ship, I hope those who read it and are interested in the pairing of our lovely Wanda Maximoff and beautiful Natasha Romanov find comfort in this fic. Please enjoy!! ~Ramoth (I also didn't proof read so all mistakes are mine and all of the characters involved belong to Marvel).

_The first time Wanda ever saw the Black Widow was when she had been involved with Ultron. Only knowing danger and the act of murdering, the young brunette had immediately jumped on the chance to finally pick a side. Although, she had no clue which side was considered better. The second her power-lit eyes, a bright red surging through them, caught onto the curvy form of a semi-familiar redheaded assassin, her lips fell open in awe at her tantalizing beauty. And it took her mind a moment to catch up as her ruby electric gaze took in the tense form of the fighter and not long after getting trapped in that slight trance, did she finally invade the other woman’s mind. The second her powers poured into her unsuspecting victim, who was too busy paying attention to other enemies, she felt her heart weaken immensely._

_Black Widow was not just an assassin, a fighter programmed to kill anyone who posed as a threat to her or her… friends. No, she was a woman who had gone through hell and back about a million times by the hands of those who wanted her to kill for a living. And Wanda could tell that she was hurt, but not beyond repair, there was still hope for a woman like her. And Wanda’s heart almost broke when she realized that she could never be that person to help her, a shoulder the dangerous female could lean on while trying to rebuild herself. She was always tense, she was always watching out, always on edge, always anyone but… Natasha. The Scarlet Witch could read all of this within that poor woman’s mind in just a few painful seconds. And it had taken her at least another few to quickly move away from the fighter and move onto another “enemy”. But that was an experience that Wanda would never, in her life or her brothers combined, could forget._

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I’m sorry,” the brunette whispered to herself, her tearful eyes cast down at the sweat-drenched white sheets beneath her before glancing up again at the floor to ceiling windows standing tall in front of her.

Rain slammed against the spotless glass, causing the young witch to flinch every time the small pitter-patter hit harder than usual. The only light pouring into the room were the quick flashes of lightning in the night sky, illuminating her form and the rest of her quarters for only a few moments before drowning her in darkness yet again. Swallowing down another sob, Wanda’s body shook violently, making her shiver before whimpering in pain. The brunette had wrapped her arms around the front of her body, her blunt yet sharp nails digging into the skin of her triceps, causing moon-shaped indents to imprint upon her arms.

“I’m so sorry, to all of you. I’m so sorry,” she repeated, her words breaking each time she bothered to open her mouth and speak out into the loud silence of her room.

The surge of magic within her mind distracted her from the hesitant footsteps that trailed closer to her room door, causing her to shiver with the weight of her power. Wincing, the brunette finally let out a sob, although the sound was covered with a boom of thunder, masking her pain as she continued to cry in silence. Her mouth open in a soundless scream, the pale witch felt tears cascade down her cheeks like lava, the salty liquid burning bright red as they fell mercilessly. More sobs broke through her system, racking her body like an earthquake as she clutched her frame tighter and bent her head, pressing her forehead to her knee, her legs crossing like a pretzel as she desperately tried to fold in on herself and become as tiny as possible.

Another crack of thunder filled the heavy silence, her magic flaring along with the sound as she finally let out a cry of sorrow. The witch was disgusted by herself, her magic, her past, her uncontrollable feelings for a woman that couldn’t love her, even if she did, a woman that the young woman would never allow to have feelings for her because she was too dangerous. Much too dangerous. And even if the object of her affections was dangerous as well, her magic was too emotional for a woman that sometimes wasn’t emotional at all. Natasha would never love her, Natasha would never care, no matter how much she wished the redhead could.

“Wanda?” a soft, angelic voice entered the room, filling her ears.

_Speak of the devil._

The witch didn’t answer. Instead, she kept her head bowed, flinching slightly as she heard her room door seal closed. The assassin stepped closer, her actions cautious and hesitant as she tried to tread lightly.

“Wanda?” the woman whispered once more, her voice now appearing to be husky and velvety, thick with sleep as she looked at the hunched over brunette.

“Go,” the younger woman replied, practically begging as her voice cracked. She winced yet again, her tears getting hotter with every step the assassin took.

“Wanda, I heard sobbing, are you ok?” Natasha pushed, desperation bleeding into her tone as she quickly bent her knees and crawled onto the bed, edging closer to the witch.

“N-Natasha, go, please,” Wanda cried, sobbing gently as she inched closer to the other end of the mattress.

“No,” the Russian replied curtly, swiftly growing closer before she sat on her knees and barely towered over the Sokovian, whose head was still bent.

“Please, I don’t- I don’t want to hurt you again, I can’t,” she pleaded, sobbing gently before pressing her lips to her clothed knee and opening her mouth once more, biting the fabric of her soft sweatpants.

“Wanda-,” Natasha responded, her voice breathy with slight discomfort and hurt as she took a risk and ever so cautiously placed her flawless hands on the younger woman’s shoulders.

Stiffening for a moment, the brunette sighed and jerked forward, needing to get away from the redhead’s touch before she caved and fell into it.

“Natasha, I said go. Please, please don’t give me a window to hurt you again,” she said, knowing that those muffled words would be her last resort before she did something stupid.

“But you wouldn’t,” Natasha replied, “you wouldn’t hurt me on purpose,” she whispered, replacing her hands on the brunette’s shoulders before she slowly rubbed reassuring circles on top of her clothed skin.

“I’ve done it before, who says I wouldn’t do it again?” the witch said fiercely, her words angry and full of sadness.

And the second the redhead’s fingertips slowly slid over her collar bone, the tension on her cheeks immediately slipped away, the red hues in her tears fading into a normal colorless shade as her breath got caught in her throat. Surprise coated her sharp features before her head snapped up in awe.

“Because I know you. You wouldn’t,” Natasha answered, oblivious to the effect that she had on Wanda’s mental, physical, and emotional health in that moment.

And the redhead was right. She wouldn’t hurt her, at least not willingly. Closing her eyes in defeat, the young witch sighed before leaning back into the absolutely wonderful touch of one Natasha Romanov. A woman of such power and skill that she could kill at least 10 people in a matter of seconds and get up without a scratch on her body. Wanda was often in awe of said skills, despite having magical powers, but it surprised her at how a woman without any magical abilities could fit in with a crowd that was so different and so powerful. But the witch knew she wasn’t just some woman without magic- no she was powerful in her own ways, in her seduction, in her ability to fight, in her ability to make Wanda feel as if she was somehow wanted and cared for and needed for by a woman like her.

“There we go,” the assassin murmured into slightly knotted brown locks. She gently moved her hands down from the younger woman’s shoulders to her waist, slipping her arms around Wanda’s small frame.

Sniffling gently, the brunette whimpered in pain. Her head still hurt but most of the pressure had slipped away due to Natasha’s careful touch. Quickly closing her eyes, Wanda let out a slightly muffled sob, begging herself to close her mouth as she flinched when lightning struck again, flashing through her eyelids before disappearing once more. Natasha’s grip tightened then, her fingers intertwining on top of the younger woman’s flat stomach.

“I’m sorry,” she started again, swallowing forcefully before she sniffed and resumed her speech, “Nat- Nata-”

“Shhh, it’s ok. I understand,” the redhead whispered into her ear, placing her chin on Wanda’s shoulder.

“No,” she said quickly, “No Natasha, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t- I thought I was doing something good. I didn’t mean to hurt you, or, or bring back bad memories,” she muttered in reply, knowing that the assassin could hear her.

“Wanda-”

“I felt your pain. I felt your pain Natasha and I- I wasn’t ready for it. You don’t deserve that, no one deserves that, I’m so sor-”

She was cut off by a pair of heavenly, soft lips being pressed against her temple. The action was almost motherly, but too intimate and full of care to be anything similar. Natasha wasn’t one to get too close, nor was she one to open up, or wrap her arms around her teammates waists, pull them in close, and plant a kiss to their sweaty temple.

Then, those taunting lips slid down, ghosting over the rest of her skin before planting another soft kiss to her cheekbone, then to the side of her jaw. It was guaranteed that Natasha’s lips had caught a tear or two but she didn’t seem to care. Wanda gasped softly, her lips parting in awe as she leaned impossibly closer to the red-haired assassin.

“Wanda, things happen for a reason. We are here now, all of us. We all have pasts, we all have problems, but we are a team. We help each other through those problems, and through those memories,” Natasha said smoothly, using a voice full of care as she tried her hardest to soothe the young witch’s sorrow.

The Russian was never good at revealing her feelings. In fact, her past contained having to pride herself on the fact that she was to remain stone-cold and void of a smile or any other emotion at all times. None of the other Avengers ever questioned her sudden loss of feeling, in fact, they sometimes understood that she did it in order to keep herself in check during a mission. But most times, they were wrong. It was just how she was, just how she was built, made, crafted, created, etc. But ever since meeting the fragile, confused, adorable, powerful brunette witch held tightly in her arms, she felt the need to be more open around her, to be more lively because she wanted so desperately to welcome her to the team. And even though she was angry and upset and utterly destroyed because of her past memories being brought to light, she knew that Wanda was more upset with herself than anyone else she had ever met- no matter the damage they did or how many people they hurt.

Natasha was one of the only Avengers to understand Wanda and be able to pick apart her feelings, just like she had her. But they never spoke about emotions or feelings, and the assassin was actually quite sure that the witch didn’t even think she had those, but Wanda did. She knew Natasha in a way no one else did, she knew of her pain and her past and her sorrow, but she didn’t want to cause any more harm or wreak any more havoc. The witch would never be able to forgive herself if she somehow managed to hurt Natasha again. Hell, she wasn’t completely sure that she’d be able to live with herself, she had already lost so much, if she lost the little trust that the redheaded woman had for her, that would most definitely make her feel as if she had just watched the world crumble in her palms and feel as if it had been her fault.

“Natasha… w-why?” she whimpered, her brow furrowing in confusion as her green eyes shot open in surprise at the assassin’s careful and somewhat loving movements.

“What do you mean why?” the Russian replied, raising an eyebrow as she stilled.

“Why are you doing this?” Wanda asked, her voice slowly growing stronger as she let confusion cloud her mind.

Slipping out of Natasha’s grasp, she turned on her knees, facing the redhead as her features slowly began to mask her pain.

“Are- is this a joke?” she asked sadly.

“What? Wanda- no. This- do you think this is a joke?” the older woman shot back, visibly tensing as she emphasized the ‘you’ in her sentence.

“I- I don’t know what to think Natasha! I’m so upset, I’m so sorry, I’m so confused and angry and full of regret. I- do you forgive me? For what I did?” Wanda begged, her eyes wide with unshed tears, her face displaying an abundance of innocence, and her brow furrowed beyond measure.

Natasha’s lips opened before closing once more, her own red brows furrowing as she gulped slightly and looked away quickly.

“That’s what I thought,” the brunette muttered, looking down before she shook her head, “just go Nat, please,” she said softly, her voice breaking with an overload of emotions.

There was a pause then, the only sound filling the room was the muffled pitter-patter of the rain. It had softened before flaring up again, and Wanda thought for a split second that her powers, that their chemistry, had affected the weather. But the harsh water became gentle and soft, no longer making the brunette wince. And finally, Wanda’s head snapped up, a bit uncomfortable with the long span of silence between them.

Suddenly, two sets of green eyes clashed. Intermixing, intertwining, mingling with each other as they stared, both seemingly caught in a trance that seemed to last two lifetimes. A vibrant viridescent meeting a slightly darker forest green, their gazes flirting, skirting over the emotions that were hidden away within their minds as they looked, stared, fell deeper into the understanding that lived between them. And Wanda felt her eyes light up, felt them slowly bleed with an even brighter red as she continued to peer at the redheaded woman from underneath her thick lashes.

“Read me,” Natasha whispered, her voice just barely inching into the silence.

Wanda breathed deeply before blinking slowly and raising her left palm into the air, turning it over as slick, vibrant tendrils of power slipped between her fingers, touching each of her fingertips slightly before she swirled her pointer finger in a gentle circle, her eyes quickly shooting up to see the beginnings of her ability running through the beautiful assassin’s system.

And suddenly, Wanda got a front row seat to a movie that she was invited to see. A movie that only consisted of words and a few scenes that flicked across her gaze, just barely letting her take them in before the movie restarted.

**“You are beautiful”**

**“Read me. Please”**

**“Please understand.”**

The first scene was of the first time they met- the first time Natasha had seen Wanda in full and had understood her powers. The second was the first time they trained together, well, the first time the assassin dared to train Wanda, despite how much she disliked her at the time. The third were quick flashes of times where Natasha’s pretty green eyes had gotten caught on Wanda’s form and followed her, watching her, slowly but surely somehow falling for her against her will. The fourth was of that moment, that moment when the assassin had found her witch teammate in pain and decided to comfort her in a way that was completely unlike her. And the fifth was of their lips meeting, their backs arching in a shared desperation for each other as their lips connected and moved in a slow, passionate dance of pure need.

And suddenly, Wanda was pushed out, her own mind and power returning back to her body and sinking into her pale skin before she gasped in awe, her eyes widening as she stared back at the red headed woman across from her. Natasha’s eyes were closed before she inhaled deeply, let out that breath, and opened them, her chest rising and falling in sync with her actions as she heard Wanda’s gasp of surprise.

“Are you sure?” the brunette whispered, her features displaying a careful need for the assassin who merely smirked back at her.

“You saw it didn’t you?” she teased gently, raising an eyebrow in a slight display of a challenge.

Wanda nodded bashfully before slowly shuffling forward and hesitantly connecting their lips, her movements slow but full of intent. Natasha quickly took control of the situation, willingly and gently kissing the younger woman back before moving her lips against hers and raising her palm slowly to cup the brunette’s cheek, her soft fingertips sliding against Wanda’s silky-smooth skin. The redhead’s tongue gently ran across Wanda’s upper lip, silently begging for her to open up for her incessant need for more everything. More contact, more kissing, more care, more feelings, more Wanda. The younger woman’s back caved, pressing her front against Natasha’s as she moaned softly into the gentle meeting of lips, letting the dangerous angel in.

Quickly receiving the message, Natasha became rougher, wrapping her arm around Wanda’s waist as she helped pull her body flush against the younger woman’s form, their thin tank tops sliding against each other as their kiss slowly became more heated. And finally, Wanda disconnected their lips for a split second, just as Natasha’s fingertips had grazed the hem of the brunette’s shirt.

“What? Is something wrong?” the redhead asked softly, worry fused into her voice as she gently gripped the sides of Wanda’s face, her thumbs smoothing slow circles on the younger woman’s cheekbones.

“No, no, of course not. This- this is all I’ve wanted, for so long. But, but I want to take it slow, I want to do this with you. For real do this… with you,” Wanda replied hesitantly, her eyes full of wonder and a softness that Natasha had never had directed at her in her life.

Suddenly, the witch was drawn back in again, her mind traveling along the assassin’s once more. Although, her movements were slow, careful, imploring as she dragged her fingertips across the other woman’s mind in a need to map out her thoughts, her loving actions, her as Natasha, not just Black Widow.

**“I’m not sure I can do that. But I’ll try. I’m not good at opening up, I’m not good at revealing my emotions, but I’ll try. I’ll try for you. Ever since I met you, I’ve known you were different. You are more than your powers Wanda, more than your brother, more than The Avengers, you are lovely, beautiful, and so so unique”**

Wanda’s eyes seemed to open both mentally and emotionally, her green eyes blurring with tears of joy as she stared at the older woman in slight awe. She was gorgeous, stunning, a woman that Wanda thought was so impossibly out of her league and uninterested that she didn’t dare to spend any extra time with her. But she did and she was in the process of saving her.

“You too,” she whispered to Natasha, the corners of her lips quirking up as she giggled gently.

“Yeah yeah, ok,” Natasha responded, rolling her eyes with a sarcastic smirk on her face before she leaned in again and pecked Wanda’s lips. Then, in a bright show of affection, she pressed her forehead to the brunette’s. “I’ll try, you’ll try, we can do this,” she said sternly, nodding slightly.

**“Together”**

_“Together”_

 


End file.
